What Epic is Made Of
by Asiera
Summary: What is Epic made of? Zombies, sticky controllers, m-rated video games, rocket-launchers, master gamers, chocolate, pwnage, and chainsaws; THAT'S what epic is made of! Playing a video game with Matt can be more hazardous than Mello ever imagined. Non-Yaoi


Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or Resident Evil 4/5...Oh wait I _do_! /excitement fades/ Well, I mean I own a _copy_ of both games...they're awesome!

AN: This one-shot is a present for my little sister Isis who was there to brave the horros of Resident Evil 5 with me.

The idea for this one-shot just came to me one morning and I didn't stop writing until it was finished. I am very pleased with the end results, especially because what happened to Matt later on happened to me too. Please review. I can't wait to see what you thought!

**What Epic Is Made Of**

L. That single letter had all of Wammy's House bursting with excitement. L was back home and that meant more than the world, twenty three times over, to three overjoyed young boys. Mello, Matt and Near had been feverishly counting down the days until their mentor's arrival; the sheer anticipation of it nearly driving them mad and the results of which already having done so to their teachers. The previous night—the eve of L's arrival—the three had defiantly stayed up six hours past their appointed bedtimes so that they could nearly tackle the famous slouched detective to the carpeted floor when he finally arrived during the wee-hours of the morning.

Now that their mentor was here, the three were determined to spend every waking second with the eclectic teen—sleep was _not_ an option. This obsession naturally turned into a bit of a competition, especially between Mello and Near. Unfortunately due to a "mandatory" meeting between those running the institution and the sought after messy-haired sleuth, the three children were minus an object of total fixation and left with poor alternatives. Well, poor alternatives in the minds of the eldest and youngest anyway, the middle child had more interesting plans than uselessly sitting outside the large oak doors waiting for L to reemerge.

As always, the great detective had brought each of his three charges a souvenir. For Mello it had been _huge_ box of chocolates that had been collected from around the globe—it had barely gotten here unopened and still full. For Near it had been an exotic puzzle box from Thailand containing thirteen interactively made 3D conundrums neatly formed into the shape of thirteen different animals, scared to that region. Matt's present had been much less sophisticated then either of his classmates but equally as valued by him. L had gotten the boy the collector's addition of the game he'd been begging for since he knew of its development: Resident Evil 5, as well as the consul on which to play it: a brand new Xbox 360.

Technically speaking, he was _much_ to young to play such a violent game, but then again, that hadn't stopped him from playing all six other CAPCOM made zombie survival games and Matt's fingers were just itching to start on this new virtual adventure.

In under five minutes, the red-haired boy had successfully hooked up the new gaming system to the large flat screen TV (a past gift from the doting detective) and had the game up and running. He had almost pressed the button that would send him in to face a parasitic-like zombie (dubbed Las Plagas) infested Africa when he paused. The big hype about this game—besides the fact that it was the long awaited sequel to the astounding Resident Evil 4—was the fact that it was multiplayer game that could be played with a single partner or a computer-played "bot".

Matt grimaced. If there was one thing he hated about video games (and using those two words in the same sentence was a stretch) it was computer played dummies. His virtual partner would probably be constantly needing rescued, use up health unnecessarily, and waste a _ton_ of ammo. He doubted that L—as great as he was—would have included a subscription to Xbox LIVE with his gift. Matt suddenly grinned. Who needed online access when a perfectly suitable blond-haired chocolate loving partner was just a few hallways away?

As if the young red-head could teleport, Mello was suddenly staring up into the grinning face of his best friend. The eldest-of-the-three's only response was to raise his left eyebrow questioningly at the ecstatic looking boy standing before him.

"Wanna do something fun?" asked the twelve year-old.

"Later, Matt," said Mello dismissively. "I'm busy."

Matt looked around the hallway, unsuccessfully searching for the source of his friend's current and aparently demanding task. "...busy...?" he questioned uncertainly.

"Yes, Matt. _Busy_," he said slowly, as if Matt couldn't understand English very well.

The red-head frowned in frustration, trying to think of the quickest way he could get his best friend to leave the boring door and head to the very interesting game-room. Within a few seconds an evil grin covered his features. "You are _not_ busy. Well..." he trailed off, the grin getting wider as he prepared to run, "...unless of course, you count hovering around this door as if you were one of L's _fan-boys_!"

Matt got the reaction he was hoping for. Mello charged after him at full speed down the hallway bellowing something along the lines of becoming a murder—Matt being the unlucky first victim. Expertly Matt—who was the quicker of the two—led Mello around the orphanage, shouting the occasional similar taunt back at him to ensure that the blond kept up the chase. He calculated perfectly the time it would take Mello to become too tired to race after him anymore and, more importantly, become to exhausted to endure his continual pestering, ensuring that they arrived panting in the game-room when this happened.

Mello threw himself down on one of the couches, his chest heaving as he glared at a still grinning Matt. "What...the hell...do you...want...Matt?"

Matt semi-cautiously approached the older boy, holding up his new game's box. "Simple, I want...you to...play this with me."

Mello momentarily looked astounded. "You...did all that...to get me to...play a game with you?" questioned Mello angrily, still panting.

Matt gave him a funny look that perfectly said, _"well duh!"._

Mello fought to keep up his glower. "When I can breath again...I'm going to..._kill_ you..."

The fakeness of the threat was not missed on the younger boy. "Well while you're doing that, why don't cha give it a try? It's got zombies—well sorta, more like mindless parasitic hosts that have these creepy insects inside of them that burst out of their heads and backs and all kinds of other nasty places."

Mello was grinning despite himself.

Encouraged, Matt continued, "and guns; lots of guns. You know you like guns. Also, there's killing things..._besides me..._" he muttered the last part quietly.

Mello laughed shaking his blond head. "Fine, just get my chocolate first."

"Sweet!" exclaimed the red-head, darting out of the room to comply to his friend's demands.

mmMmm

It didn't take long for their little truce to collapse. In fact, they hadn't really even had time to start playing when the fight broke out.

"I am _not_ playing the girl!" yelled Mello, adamantly insisting that it would be him who got to play the extremely buff male protagonist, Chris Redfield.

"Dude, it's _my_ game!" retaliated Matt. "Besides, you already got the good chair _and _you made Sheva's controller all sticky with your chocolate!"

"Then switch controllers! Weren't you the one who needed _my_ help? Well if you want me to play, _you're_ being the girl."

"That is _so_ unfair, I—" suddenly Matt stopped. He had been about to tell Mello that switching wireless controllers on an Xbox wasn't as easy as it sounded, when a clever idea crossed his mind. "Okay fine." he relented, passing Mello Chris's controller which he had previously been hording.

Mello looked at him suspiciously as he took the proffered device that would give him control over Redfield.

"I guess I'll be the one getting the first-class view of Sheva's boobs."

Mello hesitated, glaring at Matt's twinkling blue eyes, then angrily snatched the controller belonging the Redfield's double D'ed partner. _At least Matt wasn't lying..._ He heard his friend snicker and rudely told him to shut up and just start playing.

Both grinning, they started the game.

mmMmm

Playing a video game with Matt was, as Mello had originally thought, a seriously _bad_ idea. Though Matt had just gotten his hands on this recently released title, he was playing like a pro—as if he'd been killing parasitic zombies his entire life and almost 80% of them with _head-shots_ no less!

Mello wasn't used to getting beat by Matt at anything as the red-head usually came in second to him on most tasks—except computer hacking, lock-picking, and running—and it was starting to get _really_ annoying. He could have handled it except a.) he wasn't just getting beaten, he was getting completely and utterly pwned by his best friend and b.) Matt would not _shut up_!

The constant babble of: "Move left! No not that much! Dodge that attack! Ooo! He got you! Pick that item up! No, you have to arrange your pack like this so you can find stuff quick and you'll have more room. You're getting totally eaten alive...no really. Pick up that green herb. Head-shots man, _head shots_! Use you melee attack in close quarters! Mello, we're going _this _way! Man, you're just like Ashley from Resident Evil 4* only with a gun! (Matt had had to explain that one...it wasn't pretty).

A good example of how close L's second successor was to completely losing it, was after about the fiftieth time Mello needed rescued and healed because he had run out of all his ammunition and had been reduced to hitting the infected with his knife. Matt had had the gall to tell him, "Dude, if you didn't wast all your ammo, this wouldn't happen."

Mello exploded, yelling back, "I don't _wast_ ammo. It just takes a whole lot of shots to kill these damn things!"

Matt had just smiled. "Actually it doesn't. If forty percent of your shots weren't misses..."

Mello had almost thrown the controller down for good at that point but the blond was impossibly stubborn. He would _not_ leave until he was able to beat Matt at _something_ in this virtual apocalyptic world.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem like it was going to be happening anytime soon. He'd was overwhelmed by horde after horde, nearly chopped in half by a giant with a ten foot tall axe, thoroughly thrashed by a cute looking blond who had suddenly grown a centipede thing out of her head and subsequently wasn't very cute anymore, been eaten alive; engulfed in a man made entirely out of disgusting looking black worms, gotten his throat ripped out by zombie dogs, and been run over by chain-whipping motorcycle ridding infected because he couldn't hit the dodge buttons fast enough. The only semi-good thing to happen was when he'd "accidentally" blown himself and Matt up with a rocket-launcher (blowing _himself_ up had been the accident). Naturally, all this dying and carnage on his part was seriously slowing up their progression and Matt's happy-go-lucky attitude was doing nothing to ease this torture. Yet still, Mello refused to quit or even take a break until Matt had gotten what he deserved.

mmMmm

Mello breathed a huge sigh of relief. He had finally managed to complete the task of unlocking the door that was separating him from his partner. Sure that sounded like a simple task but it wasn't. It had taken him nearly twenty minutes to complete. See Mello had had to go _alone_ through an entire building fighting horde after horde and finally managing to battle his way to the big iron doors that separated him from the still back-seat-driving Matt where he barely managed to unlock them.

The blond felt a huge surge of pride as he finally accomplished his goal, albeit, it was tainted by the fact that he'd had to attempt this daunting challenge thirty-two times and put up with Matt's constant advice, but he'd done it. The area was clear, no bad guys in sight, and they were ready to move on.

"Bout time," laughed Matt as his character ran up the narrow pass towards the gate at it's end.

Mello grumbled something as a seriously beat up Sheva limped after him.

Once they had nearly reached the top of the upwards slanting ally, the game suddenly shifted into a cut-scene.

"Oh no." Mello groaned. He knew what this meant, this meant another boss was coming. This also meant that he was probably about to _die_ again...

"Don't worry about it," sang Matt happily as they heard the heavy very ominous sound of approaching footsteps. "You just hang back, I'll handle whatever's up there."

Then the horrible sound of a chainsaw filled the room and a terrible looking member of the infected dominated their field of vision. He was about seven feet tall with bandages all over his arms and a dirty white cloth wrapped loosely around his head so that only one bloodshot crazed eye could be viewed. Mello actually heard Matt's breathing pick up (though whether it was from excitement or fear, he hadn't the foggiest). He knew the moment that thing started chainsawing it's way through the suddenly weak looking door that was the only thing separating it from them, that they were in serious trouble.

The monstrosity bearing death by a chainsaw came crashing through the gate with a terrible roar and the instant that Mello had control of Sheva's body once again, he ran for it, going as fast as her injured body would take her back down the hill. Matt however, had other ideas.

Mello turned to look behind him and was shocked to see Chris just shading there, pulling out his shot gun. "What the hell are you doing Matt," cried Mello. "Get out of there."

"I told you," said Matt grinning, obviously intending so show off his superior gaming skills once again, "I got this."

Mello wasn't entirely sure that even the Master Gamer could handle this one but he'd been proved wrong before. Standing at the base of the pass, Mello turned to watch his partner's possible last stand.

Matt aimed his shotgun perfectly and got off about three shots at the things head before it charged, as if the heavy blasts didn't even scratch it. Then the chainsaw came crashing down and both teens bore witness to the biggest reason that this game was rated M for _mature_: a five second long cut-scene in which Chris Redfield was totally decapitated, blood and flesh flying everywhere complete with Chris's bloodcurdling screams that soon became disgusting gurgling noises.**

There was absolute silence for a second then it was broken by a screech or pure joy. Mello jumped onto the couch and yelled as loud as he could to his best friend that was only a few feet away from him._**"**__**YOU GOT PWNED**__**! **_I TOLD YOU! I _TOLD_ YOU TO RUN! BUT _YOU_ DIDN'T! A GUY WEARING A _DIPER_ ON HIS HEAD JUST HANDED YOUR _ASS_ TO YOU! NO WAIT...I'M PRETTY SURE THAT WAS YOUR _HEAD_!"

Matt stared in utter disbelief from his hysterical best friend to the screen which now read "_You are DEAD_." in grotesque blood soaked letters. This was the first time he'd died by his own fault in this game (the incident with the rocket-launcher didn't count) and Mello was obviously _ecstatic_ about it.

"HE KILLED YOU! HE _KILLED_ YOU IN _ONE_ HIT! AND YOU JUST _STOOD_ THERE _STUPIDLY_ LIKE YOU _WANTED_ HIM TO _SAW_ _YOUR HEAD OFF_! HA! THAT WAS TOTALLY _**EPIC**__!_"

Matt looked with wide eyes at his best friend who could have easily been admitted to the psych-ward for such an outburst. At first it seemed as if he was upset, as if Mello had over done it and hurt him but then he too broke out in hysterics. Both of the teen's laughing and guffawing over each-other's idiotic behavior.

The whole scene was made perfect with a quick glance behind where a horrified looking L and Near stood, both of them with their mouths hanging open in shock, Near's wide eyes covered protectively by L, whose own already naturally wide ones, where so huge it was almost scary.

"What in _God's_ name are you two _doing_?" questioned the great detective as two boys continued in their insatiable laughter.

Matt was finally able to calm himself down enough to answer their mentor. "Making _**Epicness**_."

Mello nodded in affirmation. "Yeah," he managed through his chuckles. "Making _**Epicness**_."

L's sigh and correction of, "'Epicness' is not a word." went completely unnoticed as the two best friends immediately hit the retry button. This day was one that the two would _never_ forget.

**mmMmm**

AN: Hope you all enjoyed, please review. I _love_ hearing from you!

*For those of you who don't know Resident Evil 4, Ashley is the _most_ _annoying_ girl you will _ever_ have the misfortune to meet. The protagonist—Leon S. Kennedy—is charged with rescuing her and she's a worse damsel in distress than a Disney bloody princess. She's _constantly_ needing saved and _never_ does anything useful. Just imagine a whinny pitiful voice calling "Help me, Leon!" every five minutes. It's about the _worst_ insult you could give someone playing Resident Evil.

**The chainsaw thing is completely one hundred pecent genuine (I know because it happened to me). Look it up on Youtube...if you dare.


End file.
